


there isn't a reason for any of this (maybe there doesn't need to be)

by coreoftheabyss



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Multi, i can't write, i hope at least sky likes this, i tried okay, it's poly, oh and john is ace because ace!john is the best john
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-13
Updated: 2016-05-13
Packaged: 2018-06-08 03:40:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6837715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coreoftheabyss/pseuds/coreoftheabyss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The subway station was meant to be a hideout, a headquarters of some sort. Somehow, it becomes a nest.</p>
            </blockquote>





	there isn't a reason for any of this (maybe there doesn't need to be)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [talkingtothesky](https://archiveofourown.org/users/talkingtothesky/gifts).



It starts like this:

John walks into the subway one night and finds Harold and Root in bed together. He’s exhausted after a full day at work, and it takes him a moment to process the scene before him. When he does, he feels a twinge of something; he’s not sure what. They both look so relaxed in each other’s arms, and that twinge in John grows stronger. He turns to leaves, but pauses before he walks up the stairs. That’s all it takes to wake Bear, and the dog trots up to him, tail wagging and whining quietly. John pats him absentmindedly, still contemplating Harold and Root, rationalizing their intimacy. 

_This is good_ , he decides. They can use all the comfort and rest they can get, especially these days. He, at least, has Iris. Harold and Root have both lost people. Grace was all the way in Italy, and Shaw.. John clenches his teeth. _They’ll get Shaw back._ He pushes down the strange, uneasy feeling, tells Bear to go back to bed, and starts to make his way up the stairs. The dog whines once, and stills his tail, looking up at his master with concern. He doesn’t seem to want to leave John. 

“It’s okay, boy,” John whispers, “now _blijf_. Watch them, alright?”

John doesn’t want to disturb Harold or Root, especially since it seems that neither of them were having nightmares tonight. He tells himself it doesn’t matter if they never stirred anyway.

- 

It happens twice more before Root catches him catching them all snuggled up. She hesitates before making an awkward movement towards him, as if she’s still deciding what to do. Root is not usually this careful, but she takes caution now. Perhaps too much, because when she calls out to him, intent on extending a proper invitation, he’s already gone. 

- 

John Riley gets shot because he’s a cop. John Reese gets shot because he’s an idiot with no self-preservation. Luckily, both react quickly, and it doesn’t even take five minutes for him to apprehend the suspect. Even less to handcuff and secure him. It was a run-of-the-mill armed robbery, one assailant. He strips the boy’s gun, leaving the pieces scattered around him for evidence, and calls Lionel. He forgets to mention that the shot fired kind of hit him. 

John is limping halfway down the stairs into the subway station before he realized that he could have gone to a hospital. His wound is not serious, just a graze on his right torso, but it’s still bleeding everywhere in a way that makes it seem deadly. Bear, of course, smells the blood, and whines worriedly while he nudges his head against John’s hand. Harold is busying typing, but looks up to greet him. For a few seconds, Harold’s mouth hangs open in shock, as he sees the red on John’s shirt. John closes his eyes because of course he forgot to button his suit jacket before he made it downstairs. It’s Root who breaks the silence.

“Really, John, you don’t need to go out of your way to catch a bullet just to get into bed with Harry and me,” Root quips.

John ignores her while trying to calm down the Belgian Malinois, and then concentrates on locating the first aid kit.

“Are you sure a hospital visit is not wise, Mr. Reese?” Harold asks, and John pauses, trying to find a nice way to telling Harold that he just doesn’t want to deal with the paperwork. 

It’s hard to find an excuse that doesn’t sound whiny, and he feels slightly guilty when Harold continues to look at him worriedly. John makes to answer, again, but he’s still bleeding, and decides that’s more important.

Root speaks up again. “The big lug will be fine, Harold. He’s a strong boy.” 

There’s no bite in her snark, which surprises him the most. No knife in her smirk, either, when she hands him the kit. Whether it’s a truce or an apology, neither of them knows. What he does know is that he doesn’t resist too much when when she pushes him into bed that night. Bear observes happily as she crowds John between Harold and herself so that if John tries to climb out, he’ll surely wake one of them.

- 

“Stay,” Harold asks, the next night. “Please.” As if he really needed to plea. 

- 

The subway station was meant to be a hideout, a headquarters of some sort. Somehow, it becomes a nest. Root’s room becomes communal, no longer a corner blocked by curtains. Her cot is exchanged for large mattress, one that fits all three of them. No one mentions that there’s still space on the bed to fit another. Even Bear doesn’t try to fill it.

- 

John doesn’t know what day it is when he accidentally catches Root and Harold kissing in the subway cart. He doesn’t mean to walk in on them. But all the same, he sees Root’s hands tightened around Harold’s lapels, pulling him up closer to her, and Harold’s hands on Root’s arms, not pushing them away, just holding them. 

They stop when they realize John is in the room. Harold looks a little startled, and there's a little defiance on Root's face, but neither of them say anything. Harold’s mouth twitches like he’s trying to find words, like he knows he has hurt John in some way, but doesn’t know which. John doesn’t say anything, just looks slightly apologetic as he retreats. 

He calls Iris. He doesn’t feel better.

- 

Shaw finds her own way back and the first thing Root does is cry with joy. The second thing Root does is kiss her like the world is spinning properly again, even when she feels the barrel of Shaw’s gun against her stomach. Shaw doesn’t stop her, but rolls her eyes when Root is done. 

“Only you would continue kissing a person aiming a gun at you.”

Root’s answering smiling is so bright that _Shaw_ kisses her this time.

-

She expected Root to treat her like glass when she got back, but John caught her by surprise. There are some days when he looks at her, stares really, like she’ll disappear if he takes his eyes off of her. She punches him, hard, whenever it gets too annoying. She’s sure her blows leave bruises, but he never tells her to stop. 

_His puppy eyes could rival Bear’s_ , she thinks, _he probably would let me shoot him, if he thought that would make me feel better._ She doesn’t, because she knew there was a chance Finch might just shoot her back.

Shaw stops hitting John when she realizes he’ll never tell her to stop; that he’s so thankful she’s back, he will just take it. Instead, the next time she feels his eyes on her for more than ten minutes, she grabs him, yanks him towards her, her arms like vices around his waist, trapping his body against hers. “For God’s sake, John,” she growls against his suit jacket, “I’m here. I’m alive. I might be a little chipped, but I’m not broken, okay.” 

She never tells him that she feels just a little safer with his eyes tracking her. 

- 

She’s holding him again when he leans down and presses a kiss into her hair, right at where it meets her face. They’re alone in the subway, Root taking Harold and Bear on an errand of some sort, so it’s just her and John. They’re both on the bed, and Shaw notices that John is careful not to touch her skin. Honestly, this is getting ridiculous. She doesn’t give him a warning as she loops her arms around the back of his neck and yanks his mouth closer to hers. 

“For God’s sake...John..” she pants between crushing her lips against his and biting them, and he laughs a little, a bit confused and out of breath. Shaw is not amused, and focuses on shutting him up. “If you’re gonna..kiss me...then kiss me, dammit!”

John doesn’t know what to do, so he opens his mouth and lets her in. He doesn’t kiss her back, but he doesn’t stop her either. She can practically feel the question he wants to ask her on his tongue and growls in frustration, pulling back. 

“If you don’t think Root and Harold aren’t doing their little thing when we’re not around, then you’re not as observant as you should be.”

He’s not surprised that she knows about Harold and Root. John tilts his head though. Another question. 

“What? I love her, but I don’t own her. Besides, I’ve been waiting for them to go at it forever. Geeks.” She waves her hand, “The way Root goes on forever about Harold and his machine. And now he sees how wonderful it is, right? Bound to happen, really.” 

She pauses, and adds, “Harold’s a lucky man. I would know.” 

He doesn’t know how to responds to that, but apparently, his face does, because Shaw isn’t angry anymore. But he still waits for Shaw to speak first.

She rolls her eyes. Again. “John, if you wanna kiss, we can kiss. If you don’t, we can both find something better to do.” She smirks a bit at that, and he raises an eyebrow. “What? _You_ started it.”

It takes a moment, but John leans in, and he’s gentle in a way that Shaw doesn’t want, but lets him be. They kiss for a while, and Shaw lets John lead, but he doesn’t do anything else, so she starts moving her hands. He tenses just the tiniest bit and relaxes again in a millisecond, but it’s enough for Shaw to stop.

“John?”

He’s ready to shake his head and tell her he’s fine, but she doesn’t let him. Instead, she asks “Should I tell Harold?” He shakes his head, and reaches for her face again, and fine, if he wants to be stubborn, she'll allow it. This time.

- 

In the end, it’s Harold who kisses John, and John feels the imaginary thing squeezing his chest--ribs; lungs; heart, maybe--let go. 

It’s quick and nervous, but enough that John knows they’re going to be okay, and he lets out the breath he doesn’t know he’s been holding. 

Harold has never looked like a twitchy bird more than in this moment, and John wants to show him that it will be okay. He takes a step towards Harold, but Harold holds up his hands, palms forward like a warning and a surrender, and it stops him. Harold clears his throat.

“Mr. Reese,” Harold says, and John wishes that Harold would just use his name, “it has come to my attention that I...that I, perhaps, have misunderstood. Your nature. And of course, mine, too.” 

Harold looks up at John like he’s waiting for permission, and the situation is too ironic for John not to smile. It’s a bit vicious, which puzzles Harold. 

“Mr. Reese?” He asks, and it shouldn’t be a question, but John crowds Harold until Harold is sitting on the bed, and just drops to his knees in front of the man, putting his head in Harold’s lap. 

“John?” Harold half-whispers, like he’s working out a bug in a code and almost ready to hit compile again. He takes a hand and runs it through John’s hair, down his neck, and across his shoulders. John _whimpers_.

“ _Oh_ ,” comes out of Harold like a breath is knocked out of him; like he didn’t see before; like he is just starting to understand.

- 

These things are often true:

They all fall into bed together, and the fullness of it fills their hearts. 

John doesn’t have sex with any of them, besides the odd blowjob, but he is by far the most physical. Shaw ends up being the one to warn both Root and Harold, because John's social skills still haven't passed the second grade. They go to him for kisses instead.

Harold doesn’t prefer sex, but he can be convinced if the mood is right. Root is very convincing, but he still likes blowjobs from John the best. Harold sure does feels awkward when he asks, but John is trying to convince him it’s okay, only because it’s Harold.

Shaw prefers sex with Root. Root is good at what she does. Harold? Well, Root needs to start giving him tips, “in her humble opinion” as the kids say.

They all have nightmares, but it’s better waking up to a warm bed than an empty one.

Sometimes John and Shaw fall asleep to Root’s and Harold’s voices intertwining. It’s advanced technobabble that they don’t understand, but neither mind. 

Root and Harold sleep around Sameen and John. They don’t deny that they’re a bit overprotective of their ex-government operatives. Even if the two in the middle are the deadlier ones. 

Three out of four of them sleep with guns under their pillows. Two out of four of them think about how easily a bullet can penetrate a skull through a pillow. Most nights, the gentle breathing of the other half convinces the first two that it’s not worth it.

Bear watches over them. He doesn’t fit on the bed when everyone is on it, but he doesn’t mind. And he doesn’t mind, now, jumping on when there _is_ room. Harold tries to discourage this, but even he is through pretending like they all don’t love Bear the most. 

None of this is conventional. None of _them_ are conventional. But they love each other. 

_Isn’t that enough?_

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "I need all the fic where John comes down and finds them snuggled up asleep and does a sadface because he always wanted to snuggle Harold and Root cracks an eye open and says join in you big lump"
> 
> I deviated a bit, but I tried. *flails* The last time I actually wrote a fic was in 2013. Apologizes for any grammar/spelling mistakes; I make the stupidest ones.


End file.
